


Sugar

by all_not_well



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Androgyny, Boys With Breasts, Cross-Gen, Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy, Transgender Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_not_well/pseuds/all_not_well
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's old enough to be her daddy. She's sweet enough to be his candy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She was an absolute vision in white.

She wore narrow, pointy-toed leather ankle boots on her feet, and thin silk stockings that covered her long, shapely legs. The fluttery skirt of her dress ended well above her knees. A lush fur stole lay draped over her shoulders, and a string of pearls caressed the hollow of her throat.

The lack of color, in combination with her extraordinarily pale complexion, should have washed her out completely. Instead she looked - the word that came immediately to Harry's mind was _ethereal_. She looked like a fairy princess, a Snow Queen come to life as she shook the last melting snowflakes from her white-blonde curls and unpinned the pearl-encrusted broach that held her stole in place. The fur slithered from her creamy shoulders and floated over to rest on a hook near the door.

The girl's eyes were large, a dark stormy grey, their color enhanced by the generous application of smoky, purplish kohl. Her gaze drifted idly over the grubby pub crowd, her expression cool and aloof as she took in every detail. A dozen pairs of hungry eyes, Harry's included, followed her progress as she made her way to the bar. Her heels tapped a steady cadence against the floorboards, narrow hips swaying, small breasts bouncing unfettered beneath the silky fabric of her sleeveless dress.

She withdrew a slender ash wand from her tiny beaded clutch and tapped it against the empty barstool directly to Harry's left - once, twice, thrice, stripping away years of grime - before she finally gave a nod of satisfaction and perched on the very edge of the stool.

She didn't fit in. She was a pale rose dropped into a mud patch, a bright star sparkling in an overcast sky. She was gorgeous - and judging by the way she held herself, she was not only aware of that fact, but reveled in the attention it brought her.

If Harry had a type, she was most definitely not it. She was too young, too aristocratic. Too bloody perfect. Yet he could not bring himself to look away.

She was watching the bartender, caught up in debate with another customer at the far end of the bar; as yet she had not deigned to acknowledge anyone else in particular. Naturally, she startled Harry when she suddenly spoke.

"Harry Potter. As I live and breathe."

Her voice was surprisingly low-pitched for such a delicate slip of a girl, with a plummy accent that sounded vaguely familiar to Harry's ears. The girl slanted him a sidewise glance before turning on the barstool to face him directly, her lips curving up in a winning smile. Her teeth gleamed white in the dim lighting.

She extended her left hand to him, letting it drape languidly from her wrist, knuckles presented as if she expected them kissed. Harry moved before he thought, and surprised himself by taking the pale hand in both of his and bringing it up to his mouth, letting his lips briefly caress her wintry skin.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss…"

"Malfoy. Cori Malfoy," she drawled, soft and slow.

"A pleasure." The response was automatic. Then Harry paused as her words sunk in. He straightened, still cradling her hands in his, to take a closer look at her.

"Malfoy." His brow furrowed. "Any relation to--"

Her smile turned sly.

Harry sucked in a startled breath and did a swift mental calculation. She couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty at the most. Draco Malfoy had one child, in the same year as Albus at school... Albus who had just turned nineteen in September.

" _Scorpius_ Malfoy?"

"I much prefer Cori, if you don't mind." Her tone held a mild reproach, though her smile remained undimmed. She gently tugged her hand free as the bartender finally meandered his way over to take her order.

"White wine." She spoke briskly, her tone a marked difference from the way she'd spoken to Harry. "In a _clean_ glass, if you please." She tapped a manicured nail on the bar in front of Harry - once, twice, in quick succession. "And daddy wants a Firewhiskey. Two fingers, neat."

"I don't--"

The bartender was already pouring the wine. Scorpius - _Cori_ \- raised one arched brow at Harry's protest.

"Okay, yeah, fine," Harry muttered, and directed a quick, distracted nod in the bartender's direction.

He leaned closer still, searching Cori's features for some sign of the quiet, unremarkable boy he had frequently glimpsed from afar on Platform Nine and Three Quarters whilst chivvying his own children to and from the Hogwarts Express. Now that he knew what to look for, the Malfoy chin was unmistakable, as were the grey eyes and the gilded hair. 

But all Harry could see, when he looked at Cori, was pure female. She was slim-waisted, slim-hipped, as Ginny had once been before three children. But Cori was much softer and prettier than Ginny had ever been at that age, without the hard lines around her mouth brought on by the strain of surviving in wartime. Cori's lips were slick with gloss, her brows neatly plucked, her hands soft and unmarred by scars or broom calluses. She had _breasts_ , for Merlin's sake - and quite a lovely pair, if Harry was any judge. There was nothing inherently masculine in her form or figure, nothing to connect her to the boy Harry remembered--

Then she tipped her head back, her laugh low and throaty, and suddenly Harry saw it. The line of her jaw. The slightest bulge of an adam's apple at her throat.

The abrupt juxtaposition of masculine and feminine in her features should have been jarring, awkward, strange. Instead she was…

Enchanting.

"It's impolite to stare, darling." Even when her laughter subsided, the echoes of her amusement still colored her voice - directly related to Harry's gobsmacked expression, no doubt. He shut his mouth with a snap of his teeth, only just aware that he'd been gaping at her like a landed fish all the while.

Cori nudged the glass of Firewhiskey towards him. "Drink your liquor, daddy. You look as though you could use it."

"Er." Harry tore his gaze away from her to focus on the glass. He drank the alcohol in one quick gulp, gasping as it burned its way down his throat.

"Sorry," he choked out once he'd caught his breath. Against his will, his gaze sought her out once more. "I just--"

"It is rather shocking at first, I know." Cori spoke breezily, giving Harry's arm a light pat. "You should have seen my father's reaction. Priceless, I tell you."

She kept her voice light, but Harry didn't miss the way the fingers of her left hand tightened on the stem of her wineglass. He thought about Draco Malfoy - that once-handsome face made twisted and ugly by his perpetual sneer, the derogatory slurs that had always fallen so easily from Malfoy's lips.

"Never mind him, darling." Cori shook her hair back with a little toss of her head. "You haven't run away as yet, and that's a very good sign for me. So go on, then. I know you're simply _dying_ to ask. I can see it in those stunning green eyes of yours."

"Oh - no, really." Harry averted his gaze and gestured with his empty glass to the bartender, using it as an excuse - something to focus on that wasn't Cori. "It's - you - this is none of my business, I'm sure."

"I'm not ashamed." She swirled the wine in her glass, then set it down on the bar with a light thump. "Let me guess what you're thinking."

She touched her fingers to her forehead and adopted a pose that reminded Harry, quite suddenly, of Sybill Trelawney.

"I'm looking deep into the beyond." Cori's voice dropped lower still, further blurring the line between masculine and feminine. "And I see all that you desire, Harry Potter."

She dropped her hands to her breasts, right there in the middle of the crowded pub, and cupped them boldly through the thin fabric of her dress. Her nipples were stiff little points. She rubbed slow circles around them with her thumbs.

"You wish to know: are they real?"


	2. Chapter 2

Harry didn't know quite how to react to Cori's blatant display - whether to be appalled, as a parent, or amused, as the current focus of her flirtation. Had she been there, his ex-wife would have chosen the former, of that he had no doubt. His eldest son would have found the whole thing quite hilarious. Al would have already run screaming at the sight of such a lovely pair of breasts on display. Lily would have whooped and catcalled, and probably offered a few naughty suggestions of her own.

Harry's cock was just happy to let the situation progress as it would. He could see the dusky shadow of Cori's nipples as they strained against the confines of her dress, tight little buds under her thumbs that looked sharp enough to poke right through the fabric. She was so close he could just reach out and--

There was something in the jut of Cori's chin that made Harry feel as though he was being tested somehow. And something burning in the pit of his belly - sparked by Firewhiskey, perhaps, and fueled by simmering lust - made him want to score an 'O'. It wasn't the most difficult decision to throw caution to the winds and just go with his Gyffindor instincts. His seduction skills might be below par, but his courage wasn't lacking - not by a long shot.

He caught her gaze and curled his lip in a deliberate smirk, then nudged one of her hands aside so that he could replace it with his own. He let the small, soft mound of her breast fill his palm, just held the firm, warm weight of it for a long moment, then gave it an experimental squeeze. Cori sucked in a sharp breath and leaned into Harry's touch, her lips trembling, her fingers at her other breast pinching tight around her own nipple.

"They're definitely squeezable," Harry murmured.

He watched her eyes darken, pupils expanding while he plumped and stroked and played with her breast through the fabric of her dress. Her tongue darted out to sweep over her lower lip, leaving it wet and glistening in the lamplight.

Still acting purely on instinct, Harry leaned closer, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

A loud harrumph made them abruptly jerk apart. 

Cori turned away and pressed her palms flat against the grimy surface of the bar. Her shoulders hunched, and her pale hair fell forward to hide her face.

The bartender gave them an apologetic shrug as he refilled Cori's wineglass.

Harry resisted the urge to reach out for her once more, clenching his fist instead around his glass of Firewhiskey. He took a slow sip, relishing the burn as it went down. The buzz of conversation seemed abruptly louder all around them, the press of other people uncomfortably close. Harry couldn't believe he'd forgotten, even for a moment, that he and Cori were not alone. But somehow he had. He'd become so caught up in her that the rest of the world had just…faded away into insignificance.

"Well." He cleared his throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that had sprung up between them. "I have to admit, they certainly felt real to me."

His tone fell flat, but Cori tossed her head and offered him another of her flirtatious smiles all the same. The expression didn't quite touch her eyes, however. And her hand, when she reached for her wineglass, was definitely shaking, just the tiniest bit.

"They ought to feel real, darling." She smirked over the rim of the glass. "I wasn't at the top of my year in Transfiguration for nothing, after all."

She said nothing else for a long moment, her eyes far away and untouchable while they slowly finished their drinks. Harry scrambled for something more to add to the conversation. He began to worry that perhaps he'd somehow misread her - that maybe he shouldn't have been so bold as to touch her without permission, especially in such a public setting.

"Look." He fumbled with his now-empty whiskey glass, feeling awkward as a schoolboy on his first date. "I--"

"Shh, darling." Cori turned to press a fingertip to his lips. "I know what you're thinking." She gave him a cool, distant smile. "I've seen into the beyond, remember? I know your next question."

She cast a pointed glance downward, to the apex of her thighs. 

Harry couldn't help but follow her gaze. The drape of her skirt kept her secrets hidden, but Harry wasn't really sure it mattered. He might've been shackled to snatch for twenty-three years, but he'd experimented with enough cock since his divorce to know that he wasn't exactly impartial to it. He was fairly certain he could properly appreciate whatever lay between her thighs, given half a chance.

He had to bite back a disappointed groan when, rather than continuing the conversation, Cori instead rose to her feet and summoned her fur stole. Automatically Harry stood to take it from her, draping it over her narrow shoulders and pinning the brooch in place just below her lovely breasts. He smoothed his hands over the soft fur, gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and took a reluctant step back.

"Oh, daddy." Cori gave a shivery little sigh. "You truly are adorable." She pressed a hand to his cheek; her fingers were cool against his overheated skin. "Thank you for the drink, darling."

"Wait." Harry spoke up quickly as she turned to leave - grasping at something, anything, to keep her there with him for even a moment longer. "You, uh, haven't exactly answered the question."

"Haven't I?"

She closed the distance between them, slid her arms around his neck, and leaned in close, pressing the swell of her breasts against his chest. She twined her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head down until her lips were close to his ear.

"Just so you know…" Her breath caressed his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "I've got all my candy, daddy." She pressed a barely-there kiss to his jaw. "And believe me, it's delicious. You don't know what you're missing."

With that she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd before Harry had even finished processing what she was saying.

"Boy."

The bartender's gruff voice made Harry jump; it'd been years since anyone had the temerity to call him that, and it got his attention for certain. He glanced at the bartender, lifting a brow in query.

"If you don't follow her - well, you're a fool and then some. There are men who would kill to be in your shoes. It ain't every day a fine lady like that just throws herself at you."

Harry nodded absently, and looked back in time to glimpse Cori's slim silhouette disappear into darkness as the door closed behind her.

There were a thousand reasons why he should let her walk away. Her age. _His_ age. His children. His ex-wife and her family. The list went on, running through Harry's head like a scroll unfurling. But overwhelming all of that was the awful, sinking feeling that he had just let a precious gem slip through his fingers.

He scooped a handful of coins from his pocket, dropping them onto the bar to cover the tab. Gold and silver and bronze rolled in all directions; the bartender muttered a curse and scrambled after the coins before anyone else could make a grab for them. Harry barely took notice, already pushing through the crowd towards the door.

There was something that fairly _sizzled_ between him and Cori. He wanted nothing more than to see where it could lead. And he thought she might want that too.

And that, Harry thought as he stepped out into the frigid night air, was really all that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

Fluffy white flakes eddied and swirled in a chilly breeze. Hogsmeade lay smothered beneath a thick white hush; the only noise Harry could hear was the creak of snow beneath his shoes as he slipped and slid his way up the street in Cori's wake. He didn't have a clue how she managed to walk so fast in heels on such treacherous terrain, but there had to be magic involved somehow.

"Cori, wait!" he called out. His voice boomed unnaturally loud in the stillness. She must have heard him - how could she not? But she didn't look back. And she kept right on walking.

Harry frowned and skidded to a halt. Well, he decided, if she could use magic to stay ahead of him, then so could he to catch up. He drew his wand and stepped into a turn, reappearing a scant foot in front of his quarry. The sharp double-crack of displaced air probably carried all the way to Hogwarts in the silent night.

Cori yelped as she crashed into Harry's chest, unable to halt her momentum in time. She slipped, her arms pinwheeling, and would have fallen if Harry's reflexes hadn't kicked in. His hands at her waist held her upright; shamelessly, he used the opportunity to pull her body close to his. She was warm in spite of the snow and cold. A built-in warming spell on her stole, perhaps.

He opened his mouth, intending to speak - but his thoughts blanked the moment he looked into her wide, startled grey eyes. She had snowflakes in her hair, wetly kissing her skin, clinging tenuously to her eyelashes.

"Darling," Cori said gently after a long moment. "This is very inconvenient. You do realize you've ruined my perfectly timed exit."

Harry raised an eyebrow, silently inviting clarification.

"I was going to leave you wanting. You were supposed to remember me quite fondly, and spend the rest of your life wondering just how devastatingly perfect we would have been together. And I was going to walk away with my heart unbroken." She gave a shivery little sigh. "But there you have it - it's all ruined now."

"I'd much rather hold you in my arms like this."

Cori stepped out of his hold with an inelegant - and distinctly unladylike - snort. Harry immediately felt the cold once again, on more than one level. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from pulling her back to him.

"Oh, daddy," Cori said on a sigh. "I'm afraid the reality can never quite live up to the illusion." Her voice was light, but the quirk of her lips told an unhappy story. "I could hear the brush-off coming from a mile away just as soon as you remembered who I was. And I'm sorry, but this really just isn't a convenient time for me to listen. Perhaps we can do it another day? I'm free Wednesday fortnight."

"I don't know what you thought you were hearing." Harry slowly shook his head, trying to clear his confusion. "But I came out here to ask if you would have dinner with me."

Cori blinked. "Pull the other one."

"I'm quite serious."

"Then why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know?" He shrugged helplessly. "You tell me."

"Experience." She put her hands to her hips and gave him a scathing look, her eyes flicking up and down to take in his rather boring business suit and plain silk tie. "Straights," she said, her voice low and deeper than Harry'd heard it yet, scraping like sandpaper in his ears. "Oh, you're sweet as they come, Harry Potter. You'll buy my drinks, you'll flirt, you'll kiss like you mean it - as long as you can pretend I'm just like all the other girls. But one peek into my knickers, and you'll run screaming like a scared little boy."

"Who says I'm straight?"

Cori inhaled to speak, then paused, mouth open, lashes fluttering. Her breath left her in a thick plume of white.

"Well," she said. Harry fought back a smile at her flummoxed expression. "You were married."

"One relationship hardly defines the whole of my sexual experience."

"The Prophet's only pictured you with women since."

Harry snorted. "Give me a little credit for discretion. The only people I ever let myself get photographed with these days are the ones who don't mind the attention. And while it's one thing to be out - it's quite another to be out on the front page of the bloody _Daily Prophet_ for all the wizarding world to gawp at. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Cori blinked and drew in a deep breath through her nose. She looked thoughtful as she exhaled. 

"Well." She stepped closer, resting one hand on Harry's chest. "I'm an original, darling. I dare say you've never been with anyone quite like me."

"I know," Harry said solemnly. "You're far more beautiful, and infinitely more fascinating, than any woman I've yet had the pleasure to meet."

"Oh, in that case." The corners of her mouth turned up, and she trailed her fingers down to hook them in the waistband of his trousers. "In that case… Why don't we dispense with dinner and just skip ahead to the end of the evening?"

"You're sure?"

She pressed herself against him, her arms slipping under his coat to wrap around his waist as she tucked her head beneath his chin.

"Take me home with you, daddy."

Harry shivered and put his hands on her upper arms, white fur tickling his palms. He focused, picturing the foyer at Grimmauld, and stepped them into a turn.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry's hands near-trembled with a sort of wild eagerness he'd not felt in - Merlin only knew how long, really, just that it had been _long_ ; even the hedonistic months following his divorce failed to compare. He simply couldn't wait any longer to touch Cori's smooth, fair skin, to map the contours of her body with his fingertips, to learn every one of her hidden places. The instant they apparated into the foyer at Number Twelve, while Cori stared up at him with eyes gone wide and dark, Harry put his hands to her waist and pushed her up against the wall, covering her mouth with his own.

She surrendered at once, all of her sass and bravado melting away as she sagged against him. Her tongue met his almost shyly; she flailed for a moment before finding her breath, before learning to match Harry's rhythm of thrust and parry and slide. Her hands crept up to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin through the fabric of his shirt and jacket. He fumbled with the brooch that pinned her stole, let the fur fall heedlessly to the floor, then shrugged out of his jacket, leaving nothing to separate them but a few thin layers of cloth and a whisper of magic.

The heat that bloomed between them was everything Harry had anticipated - but something in the way she twitched, like a startled rabbit, when he slid his hands down to cup her luscious arse made him pause and take a step back in order to properly look at her.

She chewed at her bottom lip, teeth scraping the plump flesh. Harry gave in to the need to soothe it with his tongue, but when she would have opened her mouth to him once more - a low whine building in her throat that made Harry's cock jump in the confines of his trousers - he forced himself to pull away.

Cori let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thud and squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth still open and panting. She looked impossibly young and fragile in his hands.

"So." Harry took a deep breath and nuzzled her cheek. "Virgin?"

She twisted her lips and gave a little shrug of her shoulders in reply, which told him everything he needed to know right there.

Then she straightened to glare at him through narrowed eyes, lifting that stubborn, pointed Malfoy chin of hers in clear challenge. "And don't you dare use that as an excuse to back out on me." Her voice was crisp as a tart apple in spite of the quaver in her lower lip. "You've no idea how long I've waited for this."

He had to chuckle at that; he'd had twenty-plus years on her of waiting, seemingly for this same moment. He felt all of eighteen again himself, standing at the edge of the inevitable, shifting into a new direction without a hint of what the future held in store for him. The fact that he hadn't felt this way at his own wedding now seemed to him in retrospect to have been a whopping great sign pointing to its inevitable implosion - but the thought was fleeting, there and gone in half a heartbeat. That was past, and had no place in the present conversation.

"I'm not changing my mind." He gave Cori a quick, hard kiss to seal the promise. "I'm just…re-thinking my approach."

"I liked your approach well enough." Her expression softened, turning sultry as she lifted one leg to hook around his thigh, trying to pull him closer. "Right up until you stopped approaching me, darling. Why don't we just get back to that part?"

"Because." Harry gave her arse a light squeeze, then slid his hand along the leg she'd wrapped around him and guided it gently downwards. "You deserve better for your first time than a quickie up against the wall."

She regarded him in solemn silence for a long moment, her eyes glistening silver in the moonlight.

"If you're going to spoil me like this," she said finally, "you should also know that I have expensive tastes in jewelry and an enduring love of designer shoes."

Harry grinned and mimed writing a list on his palm. "So noted."

"And compliments - oh!" She broke off with a gasp when Harry scooped her up into his arms. She clutched at him for a moment, then relaxed into his hold. "Compliments are a necessity." She settled her head on his shoulder, her voice soft and dreamy. "Once per day at the bare minimum."

"When I first saw you tonight, I thought that you looked like a fairy princess," Harry said promptly as he started up the stairs.

"That is not a compliment." She poked him in the chest. "That is an undeniable truth."

Harry laughed out loud, and paused long enough on the landing to press a kiss to the top of her head. "All right, then, princess." He carefully ignored the nervous tremor that swept through her when he carried her over the threshold into his bedroom. "You're also perfect, priceless, pretty, precious, and a host of other words that begin with 'P'."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips and tapped her finger against them while she considered his offering. "It's a beginning. Your vocabulary obviously needs work."

He pretended affront and dropped her unceremoniously onto his bed. She cried out in surprise, then squealed with laughter when he immediately attacked her ribs with wriggling fingers, tickling her until she writhed on the mattress, gasping for breath and pleading for him to stop.

Then, when he had her at his mercy, while she was still trying to recover from the assault on her ribs and her dignity, he slid a hand up her skirt and cupped the barely-there bulge in her lacy knickers, feeling the buzz of her concealment charms against his palm. 

She sucked in a breath and held it as their gazes met. Harry slowly moved up the length of her body, settling in against her side, his fingers lightly stroking the part of her that he couldn't quite feel through the protective layer of her magic.

"Will you show me your secrets now?"

She hesitated only briefly before nodding once. 

Harry murmured a wandless _Finite_ , and immediately found himself cupping the hard, trapped length of her cock in his palm.


End file.
